by SJ Hailey
‘Archer my boy, how are you?’ The General’s voice on the line.
‘Hello Sir, I am fine, surprised to get your call.’ How did he get this number? Archer was on his guard.
‘If you are wondering how I got this number then don’t, I always like to keep track of my assets. I heard you had some trouble in Mabalia, everything okay now? All running smoothly?’
‘Yes sir, all back to normal, I will call you later with an update.’
Archer was concerned, by now The General would know from the GPS in the phone where he really was, not sitting in the palace in Mabalia, but in Miami Airport. More concerning was why did The General not show his hand, why not catch Archer out with the lie, what did he have to gain? Archer was now swiftly finishing his pizza and collecting his belongings, moving to the counter and paying by credit card. He was not responsive to the teller, appearing almost rude, still checking the area looking for a trash can to dump the phone, and then he saw the threat.
There was Mr Jones, suit neatly pressed, he was looking for someone, was it coincidence that The General had called? Had he given away Archer’s position? Did he have access to that info, perhaps someone inside the NRA or NSA? Were the past few days getting to him, paranoia and fatigue overtaking common sense? The General had no reason to jeopardise the operation in Mabalia, the future contracts it would generate would be lucrative.
Archer dismissed the thought of betrayal by The General as ridiculous and focussed on the issue thirty feet away. Any sudden movement would give away his position to Jones, he engaged the teller in polite conversation, apologising for his behaviour, watching Jones in the reflection of her glasses. He saw him move off, flirted with her for another thirty seconds, accepting her phone number and then moved off calmly but quickly as Jones disappeared.
He needed time to think, and went to the only relatively secluded place in this human hive, the restrooms. He walked in, scanning the occupants and moved to a stall next to a wall, locking the door. The adjacent stall had been empty, but he heard a large sigh, followed by a substantial man sitting down with some force, the rustle of a paper, just what he did not need.
Jacob had sent his email to Lorraine, finished his array of sushi, and managed to introduce the virgin to its delights; even if it was in a more restrained manner. Andy had finished all of his smoked salmon with some enthusiasm, and was now updating his notes from his laptop to his phone.
‘Jacob, firstly thank you for the meal, and secondly I have found a reference to an old Chinese legend.’
‘What legend? And the meal, you are very welcome, next time you may be a little more adventurous?’
‘Perhaps, yes I will. The reference is to Yi an archer who had a magic bow with ten arrows.’
‘What did this Yi do with his ten arrows?’
‘Well according to my mother, he….’
But Andy did not finish his sentence; a mass of security ran past, leaflets from a nearby counter flung up in the air by their swift passage.
Archer had not been sitting long, when a familiar voice called out his name. He had no exit strategy, and no weapons, but then in a US airport Jones could not have any weapons either. Archer left his bags, pulled himself up, surprising the large gentleman settled in the next stall, he held his finger to his lips, ignoring the pungent updraft. Archer traversed the tops of the other empty stalls, carefully lowered himself into the last one, recently vacated, the seat down, unusually.
Jones was near the row of sinks, watching the stall area having checked the urinals already. He bent down, looking for tell-tale feet, and could only see the large trainers of the man in the second stall. The first stall next to it was locked, but no feet, that was his target. Moving quietly on the tiled floor, he crouched ready to kick in the door, heart racing. With one kick from his polished leather shoes destroyed the flimsy lock. He was unexpectedly greeted by a small suitcase and holdall. He yelled in rage and proceeded to kick down every door including the second stall, the large gentleman protesting until he saw the rage in Jones’ eyes.
Archer was waiting, and had moved over the edge of the stall into open space, not wanting to be enclosed when Jones reached it. Jones kicked open the last door and in the brief time it took him to realise his prey was absent, Archer hit him in the nose with a high kick, breaking it immediately, blood spurting out and down his tie. Jones reeled back falling against the sinks, to be hit with follow up blows to the chest, crotch neck and head, repeated kicks disorientating him. Jones slumped to the ground, his senses overloaded by the onslaught; Archer did not hesitate or desist. Jones was dragged into one of the stalls, a combination of adrenaline and training forcing Jones’ head into the toilet bowl. Archer hit the flush and held Jones while he spluttered and struggled. After the blue water had stopped flowing, he pulled Jones’ soaking head out.
‘Mr Jones, welcome to the United States, and thanks for your hospitality back home.’
‘What do you want Mathias!’
‘What no witty comment? I want you to leave me alone, but seeing as you refuse too, I will make it my mission to discover whatever Enzi is plotting and stop it.’
He pushed Jones’ head back into the bowl and flushed again, pulling the man up briefly.
‘Good night!’ He smashed Jones’ head into the bowl, cracking skull and porcelain.
Before security had arrived, Archer had washed his hands, collected his belongings changed his shirt and moved away from the restroom, leaving a wet, unconscious Jones to explain the damage.
Jones was led away by eight burly security men, protesting he had diplomatic immunity, which he did, but until they could verify it, he was considered a threat.
Archer left concourse E and headed for his departure gate F20.
‘Mr Chui Enzi to security please.’
Enzi was so surprised by being called over the public address system, he body slammed two men.
‘I am so sorry.’
‘No problem.’
The two men grabbed their bags and moved on.
Jacob was grateful the African gentleman had returned the bag that he had so carelessly knocked from his grip, but thought no more of it as Andy and he moved towards the departure gate C7.
Chui Enzi never liked having to deal with any foreign security service, but the US customs team were extremely polite and professional so he returned the courtesy.
He answered all their questions, provided them with all the relevant identity information and diplomatic passports. Then he collected a dishevelled Jones, arranging for the next available flight to Panama in two hours, having missed their connection due to Jones altercation with Archer.
Jones was quietly but sternly chastised by Enzi, and then they tried to discover which flight Archer had taken, but to no avail. Not wishing to draw more attention; they got onto the next flight out. The American Airlines Boeing 757 would deliver them to Panama City in under three hours, where Archer would be waiting.
FIFTEEN
Four Seasons Hotel, New York City.
Alexander Uncotto appreciated his surroundings as he entered the hotel lobby, the octagonal cream marble pillars directing his eyes to the ceiling. Of course he noticed the inlaid floor, a geometric pattern within a marble square, stairs leading off to the various areas of luxury. Unfortunately he had no time to indulge, and even in these secure elegant surroundings, business prevailed. Alexander Uncotto relaxed in his luxury suite, the full effect of the in-room spa treatment kept him calm. His personal aide knocked and entered the main room.
‘I have checked with security, each room has an empty room between them so countries cannot be accused of spying through the walls.’
‘I feel safer here than in my own country, is that wrong?’
‘You don’t have Archer Mathias here to protect you, is that the difference?’
‘I have spoken to Archer already; he has appraised me of a situation with Enzi that needs dealing with immediately.’
‘What situation?’
/> ‘As you know I had tasked Enzi to follow up on this possible energy source for Mabalia. A solar technology, crystal based. He told me a contact in Russia had put him onto it. I did not ask for further information at the time. I wish I had.’
‘You trusted him, despite his reputation?’
‘Keep your enemies close. That was my thinking. However it seems that Enzi has usurped my trust in favour of financial gain.’
‘I can freeze all available funds to him and revoke his diplomatic status. You just have to tell me and I will arrange it.’
‘I think we must, whatever he is going to do next, I fear what reflection it will have on our country.
‘Forgive me for being so blunt, but you should never have trusted Enzi. I think the phrase they would use here is, “throw him to the wolves.”’
‘Excellent idea.’ Uncotto was staring out the window, ‘Have you seen this view, thirty two floors up, overlooking Central Park, amazing.’
‘Yes I have sir. We are most fortunate.’
‘Stop all the funds, and revoke his status. If he is doing work legitimately then he will contact me. If he does not then I will presume he has another sponsor and that will show me another path to take.’
Alexander looked over the immense city.
‘A lot of planning has gone into this sir; do you still want to use this speech? It may antagonise our hosts.’
‘That is not my intention. But I do want to provoke a response.’
‘Oh I think the wording will achieve that. I could have a friend look over the speech to modify it. He worked for one of the US senators, so he knows how to coerce an audience.’
‘I am sure he does, but like many other leaders have too, I do not want to dilute my message.’
‘You still think we can have an independent Mabalia, without outside support and interference?’
‘I do, but the road will be hard and today is the key. Let me speak to these gentlemen this afternoon to gauge what response our hosts may give to my speech later.’
Despite his resolute demeanour, Alexander was seriously concerned for the future, his own and his country.
After a pleasant lunch in his room, Alexander welcomed the gentlemen from the United States Overseas Development Agency and Department of Energy.
They were young well dressed, their grey pinstripe suits looking very similar, only their ties and hair colour differed. The taller of the two was called Andrew Bush, no relation to the former presidents he assured Alexander. The shorter, stockier one was Albert Perfidy, his palm very warm and hard.
The room had been laid out for a relaxed but formal meeting, the light wood furniture placed by Alexander to afford him seniority and dominance of the room. The two men were seated on a sofa. Both attempted to choose the higher leather chairs, but Alexander’s advisor had been seated before they came in. With the only other chair available obviously belonging to the President, the two men sat next to each other on the couch. Andrew’s laptop tidily placed on the table. Albert held a slim line PDA in his capacious palm. Alexander sat, satisfied that he had put the young men in their place, and demonstrated who was in charge.
‘Gentlemen, let me thank you for your hospitality and your Diplomatic Security Service’s excellent care for me since I arrived.’
Andrew Bush responded, ‘you are very welcome President Uncotto, we value your time and participation in this summit.’
‘That is most gracious, and it is Alexander please, no need for excessive formality here.’
‘As you wish, Alexander. The proposals you have for energy production and infrastructure development in your country, are what we are here to discuss.’
‘You have had chance to study and investigate the proposals?’
‘Yes sir, at length, and we would like to discuss our concerns.’
‘Concerns? What concerns would those be?’
Uncotto had not survived in his country without some guile and diplomatic manoeuvring.
The two men did not respond immediately, both meeting Uncotto’s unwavering gaze, his head tilted slightly to the left. After a brief look at each other, Andrew spoke, ‘Well sir, the requirements you have listed for oil production are the biggest concern. Specifically we do not think we could secure a US oil company to comply with your suggestions.’
‘Why not?’ he was enjoying this, he knew that there was no way any major oil player would hand over sole drilling rights to his country; and definitely not provide the production equipment without financial incentives. Since Venezuela they had learnt their lesson.
Andrew was obviously nervous at Uncotto’s possible reaction, ‘the fact that you wish us to invest in building an oil refinery at substantial cost, and will only begin to repay the investment after one year of oil production is not acceptable.’
‘Why not, the company that builds it will own it, we will just lease it from them, and for that they receive a fixed payment as long as production is constant. We will obviously not have the funds to pay in advance, that is why I am requesting your government to assist in our development.’
‘Yes sir, we understand that, but there are other issues with the infrastructure rebuilding.’
‘Yes, and do tell me young Andrew, what are those issues?’
Now feeling intimidated Andrew was visibly sweating through his thick brown hair. ‘You want to have solar powered desalination plants built on the coast, and underground pipelines to feed this water to inland farming areas.’
‘Yes, that is correct.’
‘But the cost of these desalination plants is immense?’
‘Albert, are you aware of the Ashkelon SWRO plant in Israel?’
‘Yes sir, I have heard of it.’
‘This plant provides three hundred and twenty thousand cubic metres of desalinated water, a day. At a cost of almost half a US dollar. That is over eighty four and a half million US gallons per day; that is a lot of bath tubs gentlemen.’
‘Yes sir, it is, but still the costs involved are high.’
‘The plant in Israel cost US$250 million, and it will make US$825 during its lifetime. Even though I will not be able to charge the same costs as this company, the benefits to my people and reduction in strain on our limited water supplies will be substantial, and much less than providing financial aid.’
‘We cannot justify the cost sir, it is too high, and there are concerns with the impact of desalination plants.’
‘But I will be paying you for this, in oil, refined oil. Which your country is desperate to consume.’
‘Which all countries are.’
‘Not mine, cars, buses, trains, most of them were destroyed years ago; they rust everywhere. So our oil consumption and desire is far less than yours, I am sure of that.’
‘President Uncotto, even if we can secure funds for your refinery, and desalination plants, the other costs of rebuilding by US companies cannot be justified.’
Uncotto paused, seeing he was gaining no ground, despite his thorough investigation before submitting his proposal. ‘Listen gentlemen, if my country were still in a state of civil war, and we had oil that you needed, how much would it cost to station and supply a large military force for a year?’
‘Well we really could not say sir. That is not relevant to your case.’
‘No it is relevant, and I am sure you cannot comment, but your forces in Afghanistan in 2003 were costing $950 million dollars a month to maintain, that is from your own records. Therefore, for the price of one week, I can have a desalination plant; that you can use to copy in America. For the cost of two months, I can have that refinery and tanker facility. Do you see my point?’
‘Sir are you saying that if we do not comply you will allow a state of civil war to prevail?’
‘No I am not! What I am pointing out to you is that you can invest your money in peaceful solutions and it will cost you far less, in lives and financial outlay, than funding any war.’
The two young men were silent, as expected.
Albert and Andrew’s response was predictable, ‘Well thank you for your time President Uncotto, we will relay your thoughts and information to our senior officials and talk soon.’
Then Albert injected an unexpected comment, ‘President Uncotto, it has come to our attention in the Department of Energy that you are seeking a solar powered device based on crystal technology? Is that correct?’
‘I am curious where you obtained your information Alfred, but yes, I am making enquiries to obtain such a device, if it exists?’
‘I am sorry sir, if it exists? Where is this device from, who manufacturers it?’
‘When I know, I will be sure to inform your government of my discovery and intentions.’
As the President stood, the two men extricated themselves from the luxurious sofa with difficulty, shook the President’s hand and that of his silent aide. With the young men gone, Uncotto’s aide finally spoke, ‘Do you think your proposals will be accepted sir?’
‘No, I never expected they will, but I have put a ‘bee in their bonnet’ I think is the appropriate phrase, someone higher up will be worried. Especially at the mention of the Chinese increasing their influence and oil access in Africa.’
‘But will that not make the United States hostile towards us?’
‘It may, but their demand and requirements for oil reserves are so desperate, I think concessions can be agreed upon.’
Even though the DSS had swept the suite for any listening devices, they had not anticipated that one of the men from the Development Agency would deposit a device. Albert Perfidy called his boss, ‘Device in place sir, reception satisfactory?’
The metallic voice responded, ‘Yes that will be all.’
The young man returned to his waiting vehicle, re-holstered his weapon from the glove compartment.
